Of Unstable Minds and Other Worlds
by Miss Tuesday
Summary: A botched potion, faces of dead loved ones on total strangers and space-time glitches. Where did he land and how will he deal with past trauma mixing with present situations?
1. Chapter 1

_**Of Unstable Minds and Other Worlds**_

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><p><em>PREFACE<em>

Harry Potter. The Boy-who-lived. A sixteen year old wizard who fought tooth and nail to conquer the world's resident Dark Wizard, the Dark Lord Voldemort.

It has been several months since Thomas Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort's demise at the hand of a teenager and Harry has not had a single moment to himself since.

A book has already been published about his first year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and it has been entitled The Philosopher's Stone.

Ron had been interviewed for the details Harry had refused any and all reporters or well-wishers since that terrible night. Though the war was won by the Light Side, there were so many casualties on both sides to turn any celebrations sour with sorrow.

After six years in a magical school full of perilous adventures and almost a full year on the run from the Dark Lord on a suicidal quest to destroy Tom Riddle's Horcruxes, bits and pieces of his soul anchored in objects and living things, Harry had finally ended the war with his signature spell.  
>An expeliarmus to counteract the famous Killing Curse -Avada Kedavra- which resulted in the fusing of magical power between the opposing wands where Harry by sheer stubbornness managed to overload Voldemort's wand and make it explode- along with its holder- to kingdom come.<p>

The rest was history as they say. Harry Potter became even more famous than he had already been and the weight of the people's awe, expectations and often enough, jealousy and anger, rendered any kind of private life for the young man virtually nonviable.

His friends, though famous as well, were less hassled and thus found it easier to move on with their lives. Harry couldn't find it in his heart to grudge them their actions nor their need to distance themselves from him. To be quite honest, he would have been very happy to distance himself from _himself_. But that was not possible...unless one was to visit the Magical Psych Ward and steal a few choice potions to drug themselves into oblivion. But Harry had become an icon, and no way was he approaching any public places without at least several dozen admirers trailing behind him like slobbering lost puppies.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter sighed quietly to himself as he sneaked a glance up to the examiner.<br>Here he was, a mere six months after his defeat of Voldemort, retaking his NEWTs and he was currently botching up his potion because the examiner was busy gazing at him in adoration instead of actually looking his work over.

It was creepy and Harry never could get used to it, despite it happening quite frequently.

This wasn't the life he'd envisioned after he defeated Moldy-Shorts. To be quite honest Harry had never envisioned actually surviving ! Especially when he discovered he detained a fragment of Voldemorts soul in his forehead, result of the failed Avada Kedavra the Ugly Snake Wanna-be Dark Lord cast on him when he was barely a year old. Crazy it was.

The potion gave a strange whizzing sound, followed by a burp as Harry added the Rosemary.

Another glance to Professor 'Trancilly-call-me-Trilly' confirmed that she hadn't gotten bored of making googley eyes at him yet and he wondered if the cauldron was really supposed to start changing colours around the edges. No use asking, the professor would just insist _again_ that he be more familiar with her and then proceed to invite him for coffee or something _else_ later on after his test.

Sighing yet again, Harry ignored his misgivings and dumped the chopped Ginger roots into the mix.

Without further ado, the abused potion decided it had had enough. It bubbled up and over in less than half a second, leaving only time for Harry to take a half surprised step back before it exploded in a magnificent show of entrails and green sluggish residue.

Burning pieces of cauldron fell back onto the table, Harry's foot, shoulder and finally, his head, knocking him out with one last thought filtering through :

_Ah...maybe now she'll stop staring..._

Unlikely.

When Harry woke he knew something wasn't right.

The fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen and that he was still lying on a cold, uneven floor, _stone_ his mind supplied for him, only drove the point home.  
><em>His potion had exploded and that bloody ponce of a woman had left him on the ground ! -<em>Harry fumed silently, closing him eyes tiredly and bringing his arm up to rub his scar as he was prone to do when he could feel headaches loom up behind his eyeballs. Old habits die hard.

Soft footfalls pulled him from his morbid thoughts of inflicting the full Potter Rage upon the useless woman and sending him into a mad scramble for his wand...you never knew who could be turning around the corner...CONSTANT VIGILANCE !

And that's when he realized that once again, he was playing Fate's Bitch and that not only this little stunt had injured and covered him in goo, he found the goo had melted his clothes away...and left his skin with burns all over.

Though if Harry were quite honest with himself, he preferred the adrenaline of being once again thrown into the unknown(...buck-naked and wandless not withstanding) to being in the presence of that insufferable professor and the wizarding world's adoring or accusing gaze.

"Oh merlin ! Are you alright ?" Apparently while he was lamenting to himself about his penchant for always being in trouble, the person had come around the corner and spotted him.

They knelt next to him and hurriedly looked him over.  
>Young, female voice and soft hands...newbie then. From the easy way she was looking him over, most probably a healer trainee. Great. Either she'd squeal and ask for a wizardgraph from the Famous Harry Potter (yes the capital 'F' was necessary) either she'd sneer and tell him she wouldn't heal someone who « could have off-ed the Dark Dork faster and spared such and such ».<p>

Except that the healer trainee did neither. She simply continued panicking at his burns and general naked-ness and the horrible (though thankfully non-smelling) goo all around and still on him.

Maybe this should have alerted Harry to several important things; such as, if the 'useless professor' had simply left him on the ground like that, where were the rest of the smashed ingredients he hadn't had the time to use yet ? Where was the desk ? Or what was left of it anyway.

And most of all, why did it look like the room hadn't been used in at least a few months ?

As it was, Harry was just too exhausted and so, despite his paranoia and his feeble attempts to stay conscious, he sank back into unconsciousness.

The next time he woke, he was lying on a bed, the burns slightly tingling but on their way to healing and he could hear whispers on the other side of white curtains pulled around his hospital bed.  
>If he had to hazard a guess, he would have said he was at Saint Mungo's.<p>

Just as he was about to try and get up, the curtain was pulled aside and a mediwitch stepped in, closely followed by three Aurors.

'Ah ! You're awake.' The healer apparently wasn't expecting him to crawl back to consciousness so fast. Harry wasn't surprised. Since when did anything ever go as expected with him ?

'I guess it's a good thing then, these men would like a word with you. When they're done I want to run a few diagnostic spells on your person.' The mediwizard opened the door, beckoned someone outside and let in three men dressed in typical red robes before closing the door behind them.

Harry blinked slowly, eyes taking in the three Aurors' suspicious faces and wary stances, careful not to make any jerky movements that could set them off. Especially the youngest Auror who was fidgeting and rolling his wand between his fingers in anticipation of one wrong move.

'How may I help you gentlemen ?' Harry finally asked when the three Aurors didn't say anything.

The first Auror closest to his bed narrowed his eyes slightly at him. He had nondescript brown eyes with curly brown hair coupled with a nice straight nose and slightly wide ears, which reminded Harry of someone, he just couldn't remember who. The man's face was a little too square and his lips chapped. The two behind him had pretty average faces, though the youngest bore glassy blue eyes, as if he'd been up half the night reading Auror textbooks and been dragged from bed only a few hours later.

After another few seconds of silent staring the head Auror finally spoke.

'Greetings.'

Harry inclined his head politely.

'We have a few questions sir, as to how you came to find yourself alone, unclothed and burnt by some unknown liquid in the middle of one of the Ministry's chambers.'

Here the man took a small step forward, bringing out his wand and Harry stiffened, cursing the fact that his own wand was nowhere near him at the moment.

'And with all that's happening these days, you can understand why we must cast the Truth Spell.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. The _Truth Spell _? Were they taking him for some kind of idiot ? Did they suddenly make that up ?

Nevertheless Harry had no choice but to nod silently and hope that, like the 'Imperio', he could fight it off if they suddenly asked unwanted questions.

He could have wandlessly sent several stunners at them but he had no idea of their expertise nor if there were more outside and it was never a good idea to show potential enemies your best card on the first round.

The Auror made two slashes of the wrist and a half circle, muttering something intelligible and suddenly harry was surrounded by a thin grey mist.

The youngest Auror took out a notebook and quill and got ready to jolt down anything of importance.

"Please state your name and occupation."

Now Harry was suspicious enough, not to mention paranoid, to not just give out his name to people who apparently hadn't recognized him. Where had they been living these past few years ? Under a rock ? Though it was a nice change to be able to introduce himself once again without having people scream his name.

"Harrison Porter, student." There. An alias close enough to his real name he'd have no problem reacting to it if people were to call him that. "And yourself ?" The mist darkened a little which did not seem to please either of the three.

It wasn't so much baiting on Harry's part as it was trying to know more about the Auror and figuring out what the hell kind of a joke this was. If the guy told him a name like RedWeasel or P.I Staker then he'd know for sure that Ginny had, once again, pranked him in the hopes of waking George up from the blank state he'd fallen into ever since his brother's death.

'Head Auror Longbottom.' The Auror stated, inclining his head.

And then Harry's brain shut down. _Longbottom _?

'How did you arrive inside the Ministry without a pass ?'

Harry's mind scrambled to come back to reality.

'I came in to pass my NEWTS Potion exam.' The mist turned white.

The head Auror remained impassive but the youngest frowned. Apparently something about his answer confused them.

"What was the substance we found on you ?"

"A botched up attempt to brew the Woflsbane Potion."

Again the mist turned white before seeping back to clear gray and the two Aurors at the back sent each other quick looks.

"What is the Wolfsbane Potion ?"

Here Harry frowned. What was going on ? How could they not know it ? Especially since Hermione and Ron had become business partners in making and commercialising it, making sure the remedy was available to all the werewolves in the world. It had been very useful when they fought the second Wizarding war because many werewolves joined their cause in order to have access to the magical brew. Harry had made sure at the end that all profits made from those potions were turned to the Weasley family and the Grangers. It had been the least he could do.

Responding very carefully, Harry fixed his whole attention on the Aurors, pushing the depressing thoughts out of his mind for the moment, looking for the slightest clue to help him understand.

"The Wolfsbane potion is a draught to help the transformation of werewolves as well as helping them retain their human state of minds."

More frantic note taking, more incredulous glances.

"So you were inventing a new potion and it...what...exploded ?"

"I put in two ingredients that react badly together and it did indeed bubble over then explode."

There, not denying, not confirming that he'd invented the potion. The mist turned white again.

"I see." The head Auror turned to the two men behind him, gazing calculatingly at the notes the youngest had taken before turning back to Harry.

"Would you be acquainted with a Neville perhaps?" Harry enquired after a few minutes of silent staring. Though he hadn't meant it, the question seemed to throw the Auror for a loop and his eyes hardened in a look Harry recognized well.

"He is my son."

'Could you...could I have the date please ?' Harry whispered, eyes taking in the Auror before him, noting small scars here and there, what seemed like a sizeable thick one going up his wrist and hidden by the long sleeves of his robes.

'It is October the 24th.' The third Auror who'd remained silent up to now answered snidely.

His voice was rough and grating, not something Harry liked to hear...and fortunately..or unfortunately he suddenly processed what he'd just heard.

"What ?"

Okay abandon all tries at staying calm. "I've been asleep two months ?" Harry would later swear he hadn't _squeaked_...more like his voice had gone up several octaves.

And suddenly he stopped and looked at them again. "What year ?"

The annoying, silent Auror didn't say anything except to lift an eyebrow so Harry shifted his gaze to the youngest, who, faced with commanding Avada-Kedavra-green eyes felt obliged to answer.

"October 24th, 2001"

And Harry fainted...erm..._manly_ lost consciousness.

* * *

><p>Harry blinked awake for the second time and, focused on the white ceiling and drapes, let the remnants of nightmares and dark memories fade back into his consciousness.<p>

Voices at his curtain made him sit up warily and peer through a gap in the drapes.

And that's when he understood how seriously _wrong_ this whole scenario was. There she was...Tonks...alive and well and visibly pouting, hair turning a sullen brown as her superior, the Auror who'd previously interrogated Harry ordered her in harsh whispers to : « keep your comments to yourself and watch him until further notice. »

Closing his eyes and taking a moment to inhale softly, Harry almost let out a sob as the reality of his situation came crashing down upon him. Now was not the time, Harry thought to himself, he had to figure out what had happened and see about getting home. Breathing deeply a few times helped and Harry opened his eyes again to take in his surroundings more carefully.

What was this place ? What had he done...what kind of parallel universe was this ?

The Hospital-wing didn't seem different but did such establishments change often?

The endless stream of questions which flowed through Harry's mind didn't help his climbing apprehension, after all -how was he going to get out of this without even the clothes on his back. Coming back to the situation at hand ,he knew without a doubt that this wasn't the Tonks he once knew and could not afford to trust her blindly despite wanting to. Her death along Remus' had been one of the most violent ones...one he often shamefully wished he hadn't witnessed for it had caused many of his recurring nightmares.  
>Testing out his strength, Harry dearly hoped his magic was replenished enough for his escape plan because if not...he was in deep shite.<p>

« Uhm...Hello ? » He called out weakly, purposefully slumping slightly on his side, facing towards where he suspected Tonks would appear. And appear she did, all brown hair and cheery eyes. Though she did look him over cautiously before fully pulling the curtains aside and nodding to him.  
>Ah. Not allowed to speak to him. Never mind. Harry made a show of trying to sit up further, mentally grinning when her compassionate heart gave and Tonk took a step closer to help. 'Not so different after all my dear Tonks.'<p>

And that's when he struck. As soon as her arm was within reaching distance Harry's hand lashed out and pinched her skin, sending a jolt of magic into her system and knocking her out cold.

He caught her as she crashed forward into his bed and was almost dragged to the floor because of her weight.

Shivering slightly, Harry hopped off the hospital bed, carefully lay Tonks onto it and draped the blanket over her. « I'm sorry. » He whispered to her as he carefully kissed her temple then turned to the magically locked drawer and waved his hand over it.

It popped open with more force than necessary, warning Harry that his reserves were low and matched with his constant bouts of dizziness, he estimated he'd be extenuated within thirty minutes. He would need plenty of rest after this break out.

Harry chuckled as he re-analysed his last thought. It seemed he would never be finished escaping these damn establishments.

His earring and the charred remains of his clothes lay in the drawer but his wand was nowhere to be found and Harry cursed. Bloody cautious Aurors. Never leave a wand around a suspect for him to find.

...that or his wand hadn't made it...which made Harry's heart throb painfully.

Sighing in annoyance, Harry clipped his earring on, transfigured part of the curtain into pants and stole Tonks' coat before limping towards the exit, Tonks' body on his bed temporarily muddling the wards and making them think he hadn't left.

It wouldn't last long, for that Harry was sure which was why he tried to hurry as he looked bewilderedly left and right, trying to remember the last time he'd made an escape from Saint Mungo's.

Deciding left was as good a choice as any, Harry sped off (with a limp) and took another three turns before a blaring alarm temporarily deafened him.

« Shit ! »

Harry limped another two corridors and plastered himself next to a few cabinets as several mediwizards ran past him, not seeing him.

Creeping a look around the corner, Harry let a sigh of relief go as he saw the fireplaces and main apparition points.

« There he is ! »

Harry jumped forward just as a jet of red light exploded into the wall above his head and ran with all his might into the open, heading straight for the nearest fireplace.

« Don't let him get away ! »

« Block all fireplaces ! Put up the anti apparition wards ! » Harry heard yell behind him and just as he reached the fireplace, the logs burned out and he knew they'd been shut down.

« Rats... » He muttered, slumping slightly, using both hands against the fireplace he'd reached to hold himself up, his legs shaking with exhaustion.

« Turn around slowly mister Porter. »

Harry chuckled softly but did so, not surprised to find the Head Auror pointing his wand at him, followed by five or so others and, most of all, Tonks, hair flaming red, testament to her fury.

« Sorry...I was really hoping I wouldn't have to work so hard to get out of here again... » Harry sighed, passing a hand through his messy hair, making it stick oddly on one side.

« We searched through all the registries and no one of the name Harrison Porter came up. » Auror Longbottom took a menacing step forward. « What is your real name ? »

Harry's gaze drifted to Tonks again and he smiled softly at her.

He didn't miss the casual wave of a finger the Head Auror sent to his coworkers nor the step towards him the contingent of Aurors took so with one final look around the terrorized medi-witches and wizards and hostile Aurors, Harry closed his eyes and tilted his head above him, feeling out and reaching the dome stretching around him, preventing him from apparating.

« NOW ! » He dimly heard as he suddenly grabbed a few strands and viciously tore into them, breaking the ward and letting him apparate away just as one of the younger Aurors was reaching for him.

Apparating with an injured body and fuzzy mind was never a smart thing. And Harry was intimately acquainted with that fact when he opened his eyes and found he'd splinched his leg. Not only that, he'd splinched the magically injured leg ! This was going to hurt like a bitch when...if he managed the Splinch Fix spell.  
>It was a relatively new spell, none-other than Ron had come up with when he'd splinched himself one time too many. Quite improbable and SO not plausible if you'd believe Hermione's constant rants...but there you have it, Ron's first invented spell and, as it turned out, commercialized worldwide, largely replenishing the Weasley family vaults. Ron had continued on and made a business of making up spells, becoming quite renown for them.<p>

« Oh my god ! » A sudden scream and half sob jolted Harry from his reminiscing and he suddenly realized he'd been lying in the middle of a grass park near Little Whinging, his amputated leg visible to the world. And apparently a young, traumatized lady had seen him.

Sighing in exhaustion Harry mindlessly sent an 'Obliviate' towards the poor woman and immediately after cast the 'Splinchus Fixus' (who said Ron had been original in his spell naming?).

His leg reappeared a moment later and slowly, painfully, fixed itself back upon his body, reminding him terribly about that last curse, cast upon his left knee, he'd survived right after killing Voldyschwortz. A curse that wasn't medically (magical or muggle) curable and left him with a permanent limp for the rest of his unusual life.

The pain subsided slightly and Harry grabbed hold of a picnic table near his head and valiantly tried to pull himself up, slipping once, twice and then finally managing it.

And that's when he saw _him_. « Are you alright ? »

Same voice...same face surrounded by too much fat...but the eyes were different, the expression open.

Harry inhaled sharply, eyes watering slightly.

« Don't move I'll call the ambulance ! » And the large body rushed back to a house a little ways down the street, a small, perfectly _normal_ house, inhabited by a thin horse-faced woman, her obese, easily angered husband and their 'perfect' spoilt son.

« Dudley... » Harry whispered painfully, memories of their horrifying ends flashing before his eyes.

Another sharp inhale had Harry's already dizzy mind reeling all over the place. This place...was surreal.

When he arrived at an abandoned school building at the end of the block Harry sighed in strained relief. _Finally_ he would be able to rest and replenish his magical reserves...and from there he'd start planning. But for now -sleep!

Sticking to the first floor and in a small dusty broom closet, Harry cast his usual Notice-Me-Not charms, Muggle Repellents and simple Alarm Wards before falling asleep in a deep comatose state.

As he slept almost peacefully, the magical world and it's Aurors searched for the mysterious powerful wizard who had broken one of the most powerful Anti-Appparition wards around St Mungo's and just _left _! Whilst still injured !

Needless to say that Rita Skeeter wrote two or three articles a day about that for the next week.

The Aurors were restless and annoyed. After a meagre trail of magic near a small, dull town in Surrey, England they hadn't had ONE reading in the past week. Where could the boy have gone ? Considering his state the Aurors had thought he would have gone to a hospital, a muggle one, to finish healing. But no one had been brought to _any_ muggle hospital resembling the boy or having similar magical signature.

Where could he be ?

* * *

><p>Cheers!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_**Of Unstable Minds and Other Worlds**_

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><p>Harry blinked blearily awake, noticing no changes in his spells and wards and stretching slowly, happy to note he was very much less sore and his left knee only throbbed a little. The transfiguration he'd done on the drapes from his hospital bed had worn out though during his little coma-sleep and thus when he got up, it was to find himself literally wearing only Tonks' coat.<p>

As he stretched, the dust that had settled around him as he slept stirred and made him sneeze once, twice and a third time.

« Merlin... » he finally coughed as the sneezing stopped and he could breathe again.

Picking himself up and wiping off the spider webs that had made themselves around and on him upon his one week nap, Harry took down his charms and wards and tied the drapes around his waist before transfiguring them back into pants.

Turning on his foot, Harry apparated with a small delicate 'pop'.

His next stop was the Dursley kitchen, it was early enough that the family wouldn't be up, no matter what dimension they seemed to be from, and there he raided the pantry, eating like an ogre as his hunger caught up with him.  
>After barely ten minutes he was finished, waved his hand as his rubbish and plate disappeared and turned on his heel to leave once again, looking around the house as he did so.<p>

He smiled up at the staircase near the door, this family was happier than his had ever been, for that he was grateful.

« I need a place to stay... » He muttered to himself as he raised his hand to call the Nightbus.

The red, double decker bus boomed loudly into existence a few meters away and screeched to a halt before him, the door opening and letting Stan the driver peek out at him, smile wide on his face.

« Gaaa'od mornin' ! Where tah ? »

Harry smiled slightly and stepped up into the bus. « Leaky Cauldron please. And yes please, hot chocolate. » He provided as Stan had opened his mouth to ask.

The man nodded gaily and motioned for Harry to go sit down. The bus was near empty so Harry chose the bed nearest to the door and gratefully sat down on the comfy bed.

Waiting till Stan's helper, who's name Harry couldn't for the life of him, remember, was preparing his chocolate mug, Harry unclipped his earring and wordlessly used the tip to prick his finger and let the round part absorb the tiny droplet of blood that had welled up.

Once it was done the earring shone and engorged to become a small briefcase sized chest.

Opening it with a whispered Parseltongue password, Harry took out his reserve money and quickly clicked the chest back shut and immediately it reduced to its earring aspect, a few seconds before Stan's assistant finished the chocolate and brought it over.

Thanking him politely Harry handed over the fair and reclined into his comfy bed, sipping the warm beverage contentedly.

Many a times he'd simply taken the Knight Bus to think or escape his more 'ardent' fans. It had become a nice hiding place...and of course, an endless stock of hot chocolate always helped one's state of mind. Sharp turns and several bumps later, Harry was dropped in front of the old bar, memories floating up of a similar escape he'd made in third year, after blowing up Aunt Marge.

Getting a room at the Leaky Cauldron was the easy part, now he had to get information from Tom, the nice inn keeper who loved gossip but who, in this dimension it seemed, was weary of strangers, particularly young men dressed in dusty robes and looking quite bedraggled thank-you-very-much.

Another thirty minutes spent making small talk, and painstakingly getting Tom to trust him a little, finally Harry learned several unsettling news.  
>News that had him gaping in shock at Tom like Ron in front of a 7th year arithmancy problem.<p>

Grindelwald was trying to take over the world, Germany already had fallen to his megalomaniac ways, Voldemort was alive and well and was currently known as the Ministry of Magic's most charismatic Minister for Magic, fighting along-side Dumbledore to repel Grindelwald's growing armies.

Harry's shock at hearing this earned him several suspicious remarks from Tom ("how d'you not know this mister? 'You been livin' under a rock these past twenty years?"); the fact that the enemy once again had their own personal moniker (the Supporters) and were attacking known magical communities all over the world however did not surprise Harry, it seemed every evil wizard had to have a secret bro-code for his evil little minions.

The reason for the people's more recent bout of hysterical paranoia, Tom told him, was due to Grindelwald sending twenty-plus werewolves to attack the French equivalent of Diagon Alley and they had killed over thirty civilians.

« But...what about the Order ? » Harry blurted in an uncharacteristic show of idiotic sputter.

Tom's gaze immediately sharpened and cut through him.

« What are you talking about ? »

And that was all Harry needed to understand Tom was a member of the Order of the Flaming Turkey and that he, Harry, had just become _the _most suspicious person currently sitting in the Leaky Cauldron.

...well damn...

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Making a quick escape after that, Harry snuck into Diagon Alley, wondering if he should just forfeit his room at the Leaky Cauldron and rent one somewhere in Knockturn Alley...he'd probably manage to mess up there as well but at least the Order wouldn't necessarily look for him here.

The first few steps into Diagon Alley blew Harry back into memories of earlier years before Voldemort had terrorized citizens into hiding away in their homes instead of going out and about. The street was full of bustling, screaming, laughing wizards and witches, sometimes accompanied by muggles who were probably friends or family, gazing at the magical shops in awe and wonder.

The air, despite frequent attacks from Grindelwald was still quite joyful and Harry couldn't help but chuckle bitterly when he recalled Tom's phrase earlier.

« A right sight 'tis nowadays, what with His Lord Darkness and his Supporters constantly attacking, 't'aint no one feeling safe 'no more ! »

With a phrase like that Harry had expected a re-enactment of his world; people speed-walking down the alley, keeping their faces down and away from confrontation; the atmosphere dark and tense... Harry was quite happy to note this world seemed to be fairing a lot better.

Walking sedately towards Gringotts, the wizarding bank, Harry made a quick stop at 'Crowley's All Occasions Store' to buy decent clothes (replacing the transfigured pants and stolen coat with second-hand dress pants, a black Weird Sisters t-shirt and traditional wizarding robes) and grabbing a pair of cheap 'All Eye' glasses, which, despite the assured : 'Correction for ANY eye problem' were making him see slightly fuzzy. It didn't really matter; he'd buy a better pair (or even better, see if surgery or some type of spell couldn't rid him of his eyesight problems) later after he'd seen what he could do about opening up a new account at Gringotts and get himself an identity card made at the Ministry. It was quite easy really to get a fake identity with the right amount of money given to the right people; Harry had made quite a few in the past few months in a bid to remain incognito from his slobering fans. But a Gringotts account was required before anything else could be asked at the Ministry.

Things were going smoothly, the sun was burning a nice warmth onto the back of Harry's head and he couldn't help but think that, finally, something _good_ was going on.

Were Harry a little more superstitious he might have hit himself on the head for having such provocative thoughts; it could almost be like he was calling for something dangerous to happen to him. As it was Harry simply continued his calm walk, hands in his robe pockets, eyes watching children run screaming and laughing past him, people erupting in loud giggles over such and such gossip. Harry sighed contentedly. And that's where fate came back and kicked him in the arse. Twice!

Harry's eyes landed upon a small ice-cream vendor, pushed along the side of the street and gleaming invitingly out at him. His eyes darted to Gringott's which was just a little further away before Harry caved and turned abruptly towards the stand, smiling fully when he saw the cold smoke which wafted off the numerous tubs on display.

"Morning!" a voice boomed from behind the cart, making Harry jump back and reach instinctively for his wand before quickly remembering his surroundings and scratching the back of his head in an embarrassed fashion. The ice-cream vendor stared at him curiously before the appeal of a new customer pushed him to ignore Harry's strange reaction and instead starting his sales' pitch, pointing out all the different flavours.

"Blood-coke and fairy honey, if you please." Harry politely interrupted before the man could drone on forever. Two minutes later Harry paid, took one big sloppy lick of his ice-cream and turned on his heel to set off toward Gringott's once more and just then, fell face to face with blood red eyes.

Harry's eyes widened in clear disbelief and he took one startled step back, his eyes flying up and down in a clear panic. Had the person stayed silent Harry could have probably calmed down enough to realize it couldn't be Voldemort and perhaps apologize for his startled reaction, as it was, the cultured lilt and dark velvet of words drifted into Harry's panicked ears, reminding him of a dark green lair with a giant snake and he lost it.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

Tom Marvolo Riddle was not an heartless man, despite many of his lovers claiming him so. He simply did not find them interesting enough to do much else than sate his boredom and humiliate them for fun.

His impressive intelligence made it very hard for him to not get bored, the only person of equal intellect was the Old Goat, Dumbledore and Tom would rather eat his own hand than spend more time than already was required with that crazy speak-in-riddles loon. Which was why it was so rare for Tom to look at someone and immediately be intrigued by them. The young man walking down the street towards the Wizarding Bank was intriguing. It also helped that Tom had received a firecall from Dumbledore who'd received a firecall from the inn-keeper Tom who'd told of a strange young man who seemed to know about the Order of the Pheonix and whose description fit this here young man.

He seemed oblivious to people around him and instead turned abruptly to buy an ice-cream, the perfect occasion Tom figured, to politely corner him and charm him into admitting how and where he'd heard about the Order. As it was, the ice-cream vendor's loud greeting startled a soldier's reaction out of the boy and Tom's interest climbed another notch. Walking up to the man's back, Tom patiently waited for him to finish paying and turn back towards him before opening his mouth to speak. The reaction he got as the stranger's eyes landed on him was quite different from what he had been expecting. Usually people are shocked by Tom's red eyes (result of foolish experiments from his youth) but then quickly bypass that to become enamoured by his pretty face.

This boy-no, man- seemed only to react in shock and panic, even taking a clear step away from Tom.

"Forgive me, I was wondering if you-" and that was about as far as Tom got before it seemed to be too much for the stranger as he screamed, turned on his heel and scampered away, his icecream bobbing up and down, bit and blobs flying up and at people as he zipped past them.

Tom remained frozen in shock, his hand still slightly raised in a non-threatening manner, blinking owlishly at the man's retreating back.

.

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><p>.<p>

Harry wheezed to a stop several turns later, ignoring people's glares as he'd evidently splashed them with the remains of his ice-cream whilst running.

Leaning against the wall to catch his breath, Harry wiped his sweaty brow and took stock of his surroundings. He'd stopped in a small alleyway where witches and wizards apparently left their pets so as to dine quietly in the adjoining restaurant; owls, cats and other various creatures surveyed them from perches and little kitty beds, hovering several inches off the dirty ground, smoke numbers hanging above each one, probably as a means for the restaurant's personnel to remember which animal belonged to which client.

Turning around he peeked a look out onto the main street but found no evidence of the Voldemort look-alike following him and so felt safe enough to step back into the flow of witches and wizards.

Harry had apparently run around Gringott's and he found himself near one of the less-known side-entrances to the Bank. Pushing through several smoking witches, Harry went in and headed straight to an open desk, the goblin head barely visible above the big mahogany counters.

"Good morning," Harry intoned and not expecting a reply from the Goblin, continued "I would like to open an account, under the name Harrison Porter."

The Goblin didn't react and scratched something onto his parchment, as if he hadn't even noticed Harry standing in front of him and talking. Harry waited. This was typical Goblin behaviour. Even with his hero status, Goblins paid him no more heed than to the usual customer.

Finally after five more boring minutes, the Goblin lifted his eyes towards Harry. "Proof of identification."

Harry started. "What?"

The Goblin sighed in obvious annoyance. "Proof. Of. Identification." Harry frowned.

"But it wasn't needed last time I opened a bank account." Harry ended it in an upbeat tone, hoping the Goblin would explain the sudden need for identification papers but as per Goblin etiquette, he simply received an exasperated glare.

"Would a drop of blood do?" Harry hedged.

"What do you take me for, a Blood Spell-Master? Get lost!"

Harry sighed and slumped back towards the main entrance. This wasn't going well. In order to make identification papers you need either someone to vouch for you, a relative or someone of high standing who acts as your patron or a bank account at Gringott's which in its own way vouches for you. This was a conundrum.

Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs outside Gringott's, a loud BOOM shook half the alley to the floor and those who'd remained standing precariously suddenly screamed as they saw the dark smoke floating above Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop (oh...hadn't the Twins opened Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes yet?). Harry groaned in annoyance. Why was this _always_ happening to him ?

As the stampeding mass of panicked civilians rushed around him, often shoving him aside or knocking him over, Harry couldn't help but curse the animalistic behaviour people tended to acquire in situations of danger.

Spells started flying as 'wanna-be heroes' tried to fight off the appearing Grindelwald Supporters and Harry ducked just in time, a vivid blue jet missing him by a hair's width and hitting Gringott's door not far behind him, breaking and burning it to smithereens.

« OY ! WATCH IT ! » He yelled angrily.  
>Damn it, what <em>was<em> it with this morning ? Did he piss off some god or something ?

Smoothly stepping aside and letting another curse zoom by him, Harry waved a hand and sent an outdoor table smashing into the nearest khaki-robed supporter (who had been busy casting flames at Twilfitt and Tatting's ). Thank god for wandless magical talent.

A third spell finally made him pay attention and cast a shield around a young man who had brazenly been trying to hold off two opponents and was failing miserably to do so, one leg already broken and slashes all over his body -courtesy of the _Rictusempra_ curse if Harry's memory was correct.

Harry sent a wordless _Reducto_ to the first assailant and then turned to the second, hands on hips.

« Hey dickhead ! Stop bullying children ! » Harry called out unthinkingly to the boy's opponent.

Harry wondered absently if he'd hit his head too hard when appearing in this new world; he hadn't been quite so brazen in battle before.

The masked man whirled towards him, wand raised threateningly. Apparently supporting mouldy-warts or Grindelwald didn't change the fashion statement. Except for the colour.  
>Whereas the Dark Lord's men had sported stylish black robes with white death masks, these men wore khaki robes adorned with silver runes on the sleeves and a strange kind of half mask-half hat headwear. Very Hitler-chic.<p>

The student whimpered, red and gold scarf half strangling him as he scuttled back a little. Gryffindor. No wonder he'd stayed behind to try and fight like a 'hero'.  
>Harry absent-mindedly wondered if he'd ever been that stupid and brash -oh wait, see previous thought.<p>

On instinct, followed by the warmth of an almost grazing spell from behind, Harry was twirling aside, a red jet flying past him to sail inches away from Harry's current opponent.

« Sorry Nott! »  
>Harry's eyebrow twitched. Surely this act of stupidity was a ruse so Harry would drop his guard.<p>

Harry's first opponent ignored conventional ruse-acting however and shot another curse, this time at the idiotic Supporter in red-splattered khaki garb behind Harry who was blasted into a side alley.

Said Boy-Who-Lived-To-Kill-Moldy-Warts-Twice didn't move as his opponent, now identified as Nott did so.

« Man. Must be difficult working with someone like that. » Harry remarked casually.  
>His only answer was a flurry of spells and dark curses heading towards him this time.<p>

« Jeez, no need to get grumpy. » Harry groused, summoning bricks and pieces of smashed door to block most of the barrage of spells. Though Harry had practiced his wandless abilities, he still couldn't do any difficult spells without a wand. Which meant that in a battle against an opponent who wasn't stingy with his use of dangerous and illegal spells, Harry had to resort to dancing around the burning spells to avoid being killed.

Harry twirled and dived behind the remains of a brick wall, hearing the spells crash into it as they missed him by inches. Sitting up a little and taking stock of his surroundings once again, Harry found most of the inhabitants evacuated and several red robes running from one corner to another, fighting khaki robes who had their backs to Harry from this angle.

He bit his lip in thought. If Nott could just wait for a few seconds, he could incapacitate at least three assailants from his vantage point. The spells against him no longer thundered against his wall and Harry cautiously peeked over it, seeing Nott engaged against an Auror who must have just apparated in.

Reassured on that end, Harry turned back to the three easy pickings and summoned a chair onto the first one's head who was about to curse a familiar pink-haired Auror.

"One down." Harry whispered, rolling aside as number two had turned around, spotted him and sent hurtling a vivid green curse, way too easy to recognize. Back on his feet, hair full of dirt and twigs, Harry flicked his hand and smiled when the window next to the Supported exploded in thousands of small shards and pierced his skin; incapacitating him enough for the Auror he had been previously fighting to stun and rope him.

"That's two...where's three?" Harry's eyes darted around, he was crouched with his back to the street and he could still hear Nott and the Auror yelling spells at each other.

Goblins had warded close the big Gringott's doors and in front of them Harry could see more and more Aurors apparating in.

Peeking over his barricade, Harry came face to cloth with Nott's khaki robes as he'd apparently been herded back towards Harry's hiding place; Nott sent a last incapacitating spell towards his Auror opponent, taking the man down with a yelp then crouched just on the other side of Harry's make-shift barricade and began incanting. The familiar, horrifying words reached Harry's ears and he jumped up from his hiding place. Already the FiendFyre was erupting from Nott's wand tip. Harry 's reaction was immediate; his hand flew out, slapped Nott on the back of the head and when Nott turned his head towards Harry in surprise, his nose made painful, cracking contact with Harry's fist.

Nott's eyes rolled backwards and he slumped sideways, blood trickling from his nose onto his cheek and splattering on the pavement.

« Well that confirms it, you'll always be an asshole no matter the dimenson. » Harry muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Looking up, the Aurors seemed to be herding two or three Supporters back towards Gringotts, probably to apparate them out and directly to the Ministry; no-one seemed to have noticed the Auror Nott had taken down before Harry had 'taken care of him'. Harry sighed and trudged reluctantly towards him, the adrenaline and euphoria of battle still rode high in his veins.  
>Harry crouched next to the body, clinically pressing two fingers to the man's carotid. Weak pulse.<p>

The man was non-descript, brown hair, green eyes, freckles; mid thirties. He was probably someone's husband and father. Harry checked for injuries and found a minor head wound, probably the man twirled to avoid the curse and hit his head on the way down. Harry looked around and indeed, several inches to the side was a fallen beam carrying traces of blood.

The relief that flooded his system at not finding another dead body (or dying slowly from some horrific spell) drew a smile to Harry's face and he quickly cast a simple 'Episkey' before getting back to his feet and wiping his hands on his pants.

Turning back towards Gringott's, Harry found his grin freezing on his face as he was suddenly faced with several dozen people; some were injured survivors, others Aurors in typical red robes and some, clothed like civilians -Harry suspected were from the Order.

« aw. Damn. » Harry muttered, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

No one made a move, curiously staring at him, wind blowing down the alley and swaying several cloaks. Sighing softly and shaking his head, Harry instead turned left, towards Knockturn Alley.  
>Maybe he could repeat today's earlier escape from Riddle-look-alike?<p>

« Where do you think you are going ? » A voice called out to Harry.

« Head Auror Longbottom ! What a nice surprise ! » Harry twirled on his heel to face them again and bowed, grinning at the red faced man.

« I'm afraid our last meeting was cut short. » The Auror growled through his teeth.  
><em>Hmm, was that almost a sense of humour<em> ?

Harry's grin widened. « Oh really ? I'm so sorry, had I known you had wanted more pertinent things revealed about my private life I would have gladly stayed and let myself be interrogated. »

Huge lie. And everyone could probably pick up on his not-so-subtle sarcasm.

« Well, yet again, I must cut our meetings short my dear boy, things to do, candy to steal and all that. »

Candy to steal ? Was he becoming as barmy as his old headmaster ? It was possible, Harry hadn't really retained much sanity after finally ridding the world of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Lest-You-Should-Unleash-Terror-Upon-Some-Poor-Cowardly-Citizen.

Apparently the Aurors thought so as well because they only strengthened their stance of attack towards him.

Great...if he made a run for it, he'd never manage to get into the alley unscathed...and that was without planning how to lose them from there !...not to mention with all his 'playing' around just now his knee had started to throb again.

A soft chuckled cut his musings short and Harry's Avada-green eyes turned to a fantastically coloured figure that he had somehow missed.

Dumbledore in resplendent orange and lime green robes (with little yellow bananas dancing on the seams) was still chuckling, blue eyes twinkling even from a distance.

« Merlin. » Harry whispered, more affected by seeing his formerly dead Headmaster alive than he'd thought he'd be.  
>True, he'd come to terms with being in a different world...he just hadn't thought <em>really<em> hard about it. Quite the opposite. He'd ignored everything, the Nile wasn't just a river in Egypt and all that.

« Ladies and gentlemen, we can either dilly dally here all day or we can all go back to Gringott's and floo the wounded to the hospital, I believe all other floo and apparition points have been de-activated in the surrounding area by the Supporters? » Dumbledore inquired towards the Aurors, eyebrows raised.

Head Auror Longbottom suddenly blew out an exasperated breath and nodded.

« Excellent ! Shall we mister... » Albus Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in question.

« Hmm ? Oh no I'm fine, not a scratch, thank you headmaster and I believe I shall be on my merry way. » He bowed once, low, to Dumbledore and another, considerably less low and mocking towards the, now puce coloured, Head Auror.

« I'm afraid that isn't an option young man. » Dumbledore reinstated forcefully this time, his magic slowly unleashing before Harry's sensitive eyes and coiling, ready to catch him should he try to leave again.

For a fraction of a second Harry contemplated also unleashing his own magical powers and shocking Dumbledore into immobility so he could run away cackling madly...but as it was...it probably wouldn't work.

Shoulders slumping, Harry blew out an annoyed huff. « Seriously ? »

With no audible answer Harry found himself walking slowly to the Headmaster of Hogwarts and supreme Mugwump looking, for all purposes, like a sullen 13 year old caught out late by his parents.

« This is so unfair. »

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><p>.<p>

Thank you for reading!


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